


OUAT Rewatch Ficlet Series

by sambethe



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-06 20:06:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11607993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sambethe/pseuds/sambethe
Summary: Step two of my self-imposed breaking the writing slump challenge. I decided to take up an OUAT rewatch in a search for some inspiration. To go along with that, I threw down a drabble gauntlet. One ficlet per episode. Going to try to keep them short, just a means to get ideas moving.





	1. 1x01: Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> Character focus/ships/etc may change with each episode. I'll clearly mark it in notes. This one's Emma-centric.

It was tradition.

Or so she told herself.

Yellow cake. Vanilla frosting. A solitary, pencil-thin candle on top.

Even in Boston when she had steady work, and the steady paycheck that came with, Emma stuck to that routine. She might be surrounded by fancy cupcake shops with their real cream frostings, caramelized bacon toppings, and assortment of pie-like fillings, but it didn’t matter. Each October 22rd she’d walk into whatever grocery store or bakery she’d find on her way home and buy herself the same thing.

It started that first birthday out of prison, her nineteenth. She was living in a ratty, pay-by-the week motel in the outskirts of Tallahassee, working night shift as a waitress in a diner off the FSU campus. The night, like most of them, had been nothing but a revolving door of jocks who traded bets on who might grab her ass and drunk sorority girls talking in high-pitched voices and teetering in high heels that Emma would give anything to be able afford. She could almost have forgotten it was her birthday, except the calendar pasted over the register kept taunting her with its oversized, bolded font.

She slipped out the side door on her break, pocketing a cupcake from the rotating dessert display and the one of the candles from the dusty box on the bottom shelf behind the counter. It was humid and hot outside, the loose strands of hair at the back of her neck sticking to her skin, even though the sun had set hours ago.

Staring at the candle, its wick burning down, the cheap wax dripping green on the white frosting, Emma refused to make a wish as she blew out the flame.

*

She is twenty-eight when she breaks that streak, her skip’s words still rattling around her head as she walks down the grocery store aisle.

_The hell you know about family?_

The package of star-shaped candles, three times the price of the ordinary ones, calls to her and she grabs it before she can change her mind. And later, as she watches the blue wax melt, she thinks, maybe, one more tradition can be broken.


	2. 1x02: The Thing You Love Most

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Snow and Emma feels for your Wednesday.

“Who does he think you are?”

“Oh, it’s silly.”

“I just got five minutes of silly. Lay it on me.”

“Snow White,” she says with a shake of her head.

She’s stunned. She’s surprised her jaw doesn’t hang all the way down to the ground, and she stops herself from taking a step back. Her heart does a weird double beat thing and then clenches, and she hates herself for the way Mary Margaret’s answer makes her chest feel warm.

She shuts that down before it can spread.

“Who does he think you are?”

_Her eyes are green_. Emma wants to roll her own at the thought as soon as it flashes across her brain. _And her cheekbones…_

_Don’t be ridiculous_ , she thinks loudly, trying to drown out her spiraling thoughts. She shakes her head, unsure if it’s a means to tell herself to stop it or a answer to Mary Margaret’s question. It’s probably both. This woman is her age, or close to it, she reminds herself, and is most definitely not her mother. “I’m not in the book,” she finally whispers.

Emma pushes her thoughts down, locking them away somewhere behind where she keeps her childhood fantasies, and then straightens her shoulders.

“Can I ask you a favor? Regina mentioned the kid’s in therapy. Do you know where I could find the doctor?”

*

She feels giddy as she walks down the aisle of the hardware store. It might be because of the boxed chainsaw in her hand, or it might be the way she can’t get Mary Margaret’s words in the station out of her head.

_I trust you_.

Emma thinks she might trust her too, even without the Snow White thing, and that’s a problem.

She drops the chainsaw at the register and wonders if there’s a place to get a drink in this town. It’s probably not a question she should ask while buying heavy machinery.

*

“You look like you need to talk.”

And the funny thing is she’s tempted.  
She doesn’t know this woman, and can’t remember the last time she wanted to tell anyone anything. But here she is with tears in her eyes that she can’t blink away and an aching need to talk to her.

She should go. Back to Boston, back to her quiet apartment and her quiet, drama-free life. Back to where she can’t hurt people, and they can’t hurt her.

She almost steps towards the stairs but then stops. Dropping her shoulders and letting out a breath, she takes a step inside instead.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Comment or come talk on tumblr (sambethe.tumblr.com)!


End file.
